


Luck at the Bar

by Sunshineshipper



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshineshipper/pseuds/Sunshineshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan's life changes with one night at the bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luck at the Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a contest I'm having on my Tumblr account.

“Hi, handsome. Waiting for me?”

Stan swallows the remainder of his drink before turning his stool around to see the source of the voice, and he tries to contain his excitement over the woman standing to his right. He smirks, “I wasn’t, but now that you’re here, can I buy you a drink? Maybe champagne?”

The sudden laughter, one that somehow shakes him, forces his eyebrow to raise. Then, as she plants herself beside him, her hand slipping onto his own, she responds, “No, I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Thomas,” he calls out, “Two of the usual,” his full attention is all hers once more. The way she bites her reddened lips to the way she uncrosses and recrosses her legs.

“What brings you here?”

“I’m always here on a Friday night. Nothing better to do. What about you?”  
“Friends,” is her only response before the bartender sits the drinks in front of them. She sips from hers leaving a red stain of lipstick on the rim, “My friends just ditched me to go play with complete strangers. So, now I’m all alone. Well, not completely.”

“I’m a stranger,” he reminds her.

“Not for long,” she winks, the heat rises to his face, but he keeps his cool, “Buy me another drink and you’ll be more of a gentlemen than the rest of the men here.”

“You got it, sweetheart,” he says and the grin on her face spreads, “My name’s Stan by the way. What’s yours?”

“Carla. Carla McCorkle.”

“Nice name.”

She shrugs, “Thank you,” she pulls herself out of the chair, “Where to now?”  
“What? he asks, "This is usually all I do." 

"How lucky you are to have met me” she holds out her hand. He’s reluctant at first, but takes it and is being pulled to the front door.


End file.
